Brandt Protocol
by Wolf001
Summary: A squad of eight supersoldiers drops behind enemy lines to evacuate 300 Marines who took a wrong turn in the hottest battle in history. Idea inspired by Halo.
1. Chapter 1

"Move, move, move!" An explosion rocked the battlefield. He grabbed the armored shoulder of the man in front of him. "Chad, let's go!" he shouted. Chad rose to one knee, firing the assault rifle over the concrete barricade, then stood and ran after him. The voice came over the intercom again. "090, 146, get out of there!" Another explosion, closer to them. Bullets whistled past them, rattling the buildings behind them. They ran faster now, sprinting headlong towards their evac ship. The _Hydra_, a quick response deployment starcruiser. This was serious.

He dropped to one knee, firing into the crowds of howling Territes, and Chad stopped too. "Scott, what the hell are you doing?" He felt his brother's hand grab his shoulder. "Command told us to un-ass, let's go!" He stood again, jogging backwards, still firing. His gun clicked and he dropped the empty clip to the ground, slamming another home. The fire around them intensified. Chad yelled into the comlink in his helmet. "Over Watch, this is lambda-146, we are under heavy fire from sector two-one-alpha. Request air support, over!"

A hiss of static, then a reply. "Wilco, 146, fire incoming on sector two-one-alpha, out." Scott ducked behind a half-collapsed wall, Chad sliding in next to him. A few seconds, painfully long, passed. Then, the sound of an SGBM, a shrieking banshee heralding death to the Territes it soon exploded into. The entire city shook violently as the missile hit, and shattered concrete rained around the two soldiers. They stood and rushed over to the _Hydra_, which had started to lift off. Chad jumped in first and reached down, pulling his brother onto the ramp. It clanged shut nearly on Scott's legs, shutting out the awful screams from the aliens within the space-to-ground ballistic missile's blast radius.

Scott, breathing heavily, pulled off his helmet, his black hair dripping with sweat. Chad sprawled next to him, starting already to breathe easier. Scott forced himself to stand as the rest of their squad came into the loading area to greet them. Their sergeant, a burly man aptly named Magnus-119, helped Chad to stand. Scott looked at their squad captain, Charity-115. "Why did we pull out?"

"Intel says that the Territes have three frigates in a wormhole, coming here. HIMRC Command told us to pull out. Kyul isn't important enough to lose a whole squad on."

"Did the Marines get out?" asked Chad.

Charity nodded. "They pulled out at 18h00."

Scott looked at his watch. 18h07. _Damn close. They were in 21A._ "Why the Hydra?"

Magnus's deep voice rumbled the reply. "We're going to Callista."

_Callista's the hottest battlefield this side of Home. Holy shit._ "I thought Tau had Callista."

"Tau and Iota," added the squad's demolitions expert, Dexter-045.

"Now it'll have Lambda, too."

"Damn," muttered Chad.

Kirk-018, the nervous and inexperienced medic, ran his hand through his close-cropped blond hair. "Why do they want us there, captain?"

"Tau's Over Watch has been disabled, and Iota's is out of order. Command called us in to give spacial overlook and provide air support if needed."

"Bullshit."

Charity looked at Wayne-102, who had implacably made the comment. "Why bullshit?"

The tank of a lance corporal shrugged. "Isn't it always? They'll tell us to go there and stay in space, then a week later it'll be boots on the ground and fourth point in the mud. Brass is fubar if you ask me."

"Orders are orders, Cannon."

He shrugged again. "It's still bullshit."

The squad fell silent for a few minutes, then a more timid voice spoke. "Weren't we supposed to get R&R this week?"

Scott didn't have to look over to see who spoke. He knew that voice better than anyone's except Chad. It was Krystal. Or now, Krystal-060. She was the squad's sniper. And the second-best sniper in the HIMRC. She hated recognition, and kept a low profile as much as she could. Scott suspected she could have been the best if it wouldn't have drawn attention to herself. He shook his head once to clear his thoughts and came back to the squad's conversation.

"We were, but Command called it off."

"Who's watching Home?" asked Scott.

"Alpha."

"Wolf's still there?"

A nod.

Wayne scoffed. "Wolf's too chicken to come offworld."

Chad glared at him. "He's twice the fighter you'll ever be."

"Wolf? Don't make me laugh. He's older than dirt."

"He can still kick your ass."

"Bullshit."

Scott lost interest. This could go on for a while. He tucked his helmet under his arm and climbed the ladder into the hallway that led to the cockpit. Glancing in that direction, Scott wondered briefly who was flying _this_ time, and turned towards the rec-room.

He made a quick stop in the armory on the way, pulling off his thick, shielded armor and leaving his IHC-3 assault rifle in the rack. He stepped out into the hallway again, feeling strangely light in the basic cotton-polyester grey fatigues, the number 090 printed on his chest, just like it was on the armor. He wasn't Scott Davies anymore, at least not to the politicians back Home. He was just a number.

He scratched his maroon-striped shoulder absently, the only habit he had that was different from Chad. It was hard to be a twin, especially an identical one. He had to do something to set him apart. He had started scratching his right shoulder seventeen years ago, before they were inducted into the HIMRC's TROJAN-IX program. Scott would have said dragged, but Chad sort of liked being in the military, especially the special forces. It had been years since his brother had felt purposeless.

Scott made his way to the rec-room and collapsed into one of the thick, comfortable recliners arranged in a half-circle around the room. His body was exhausted, but his mind was still running at full speed. Seventeen years of training had made his brain work as fast as a supercomputer, but it still took a while to shut down. He leaned back, eyes closed, and let his mind run.

* * *

His small face pressed eagerly against the glass of the speeder's window. The speeder slowed down and his adrenaline pumped even higher through his small body. The words "Davies and Engram Engineering" passed slowly high above him, the block letters standing out from their perch along the skyscraper's highest ledge. He turned to his brother beside him, bouncing on his seat with excitement. "We're here!"

The driver stepped out and opened the door, its gears whirring, and the computerized voice spoke in a dull monotone. "Welcome to Davies and Engram. Follow me." The robotic greeter led them to the teleporter, which deposited them immediately upon the highest floor of the building. Their guide spoke again. "Your father is just over there, through that door. He is expecting you." And then the robot was gone.

The boys turned in unison, looking down the long hallway towards the door at the end, which read "Garrett Davies, CEO". They looked at each other with barely contained excitement, then started running towards the door. As they passed another, which read "Linda Engram, COO", a voice hailed them. "Scott, Chad? Is that you?"

They stopped in their tracks, turning towards the source of the voice. "Krystal?"

A small girl, two years younger than they, skipped happily out of the room. "It is you!" Her auburn pigtails bounced along with her. "It's really good to see you!"

The twin boys smiled, again in unison. "You too!"

All three ran together into a group hug, shouting unintelligible words to each other, as small children are wont to do. The door at the end of the hall opened suddenly, and the three stopped moving. Slowly they turned to look, and there stood Garrett Davies. He looked at them for a long moment, then smiled broadly. "There you are, boys. Come on inside."

Chad hurried towards their father, but Scott hesitated. There was something odd going on here, but his eight-year-old brain couldn't decipher it. His father beckoned to him. "Come on, Scott." The child scratched his right shoulder, his black hair falling into his eyes. Garrett came forward, with Chad latched on to his leg, and took his son's hand. "I have a surprise for you!"

Scott didn't resist his father's ushering, and allowed himself to be led into the office. Garrett addressed both his children. "Close your eyes now, no peeking."

The boys squeezed their grey eyes shut, clenching their fists in anticipation. They heard someone walk in behind them, and then the door closed. "Okay, turn around," came their father's voice.

Scott turned slowly, Chad eagerly, but both didn't know what to say. Standing there was a man neither of them knew. His hair was brown and his beard full, and he was wearing a grey uniform with maroon-striped shoulders, the number 001 printed across the chest. Their father spoke from behind them. "This is Uncle Wolf." Scott frowned. They didn't have any uncles. "He'll be taking you on a little trip."

Wolf did not smile, towering over the children, neither friendly nor hostile. "Come with me. We're going away for a while." His voice was rough yet strangely gentle.

Chad looked at him, wary. "Where are we going?"

"Have you ever been to space?"

The boys' eyes widened. Everyone wanted to go to space. Chad's wariness disappeared. "What planet are we going to visit?"

Wolf's expression did not change. "Horizon."

* * *

"Scott."

The quiet voice brought him out of his reminiscence. He looked up to see a very familiar face. "Hey, Kris."

She sat next to him. "How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Coping."

"Is it easy for you? To kill people?"

His grey eyes met Krystal's emerald ones. "It's easier when they're shooting back."

A smile flitted across her small face. "It's really hard. For me."

He nodded, expressionless. "It's harder when you can see their faces, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I wish I could just talk to them. Make them see that we want peace."

"It's not that easy."

"It's crap." After all these years, she still didn't swear. Scott almost smiled. At least one member of Lambda Squad still had morals. He knew he didn't.

She stood. "We just went into the wormhole. We'll be out in a few hours. You may want to get some sleep."

"You know me, Kris. I don't sleep anymore."

She smiled sadly. "I know. Still… you should try."

"I'll try." He knew he wouldn't sleep anyway.

"I'll hold you to that." She started to walk away, towards the dormitory.

"Are Chad and Wayne still arguing?" Scott called after her.

"Does a bear crap in the woods?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Dammit! No way!" Wayne threw his cards down on the table. "No way I just got beat by the FNG!"

Kirk sat across the table from him, smiling. "Pay up."

"Ain't gonna happen, shitbreak."

Scott rubbed his temples. "Just pay him, Wayne."

The big TROJAN glared daggers at Scott. "Stay out of this, Ghost."

Scott looked back at him coolly for a moment, then turned away. "Not my problem."

Wayne pushed his seat away from the table, cursing under his breath. Kirk shuffled the cards absently. "Anyone else?" No one volunteered. The young specialist shrugged and pocketed the deck, putting them on the inside of his armor that he refused to take off.

Chad sat next to his brother. "Ready for another helluva fight?"

Scott laughed humorlessly. "Why not?"

Dexter stood from his chair across from them. "I'm gonna catch some winks."

Chad waved absently to him. "See you 'round, Dex."

Magnus chuckled. "Bet you twenty he's pitching a tent."

"Wayne would throw the bullshit flag on that one," remarked Kirk as he removed his small, circular glasses, polishing them on a rag.

"He throws it for everything."

Scott smiled cynically at his brother. "True enough."

Kirk slipped out, murmuring about having to go check on something. Magnus looked at his watch. "T minus 100, gentlemen."

Chad nodded. "On my way, Sarge."

Magnus looked at Scott. "What about you, lieutenant?"

Scott shrugged. "Dunno. I'll hang here for a bit."

The burly sergeant nodded. "Your call. Let's go, corporal." He prodded Chad in the ribs.

"Leave me alone, dammit, I'm going!"

The two left the room, leaving Scott alone again in the recliner. He leaned it back, allowing his eyes to close. Maybe he would manage to get some sleep.

* * *

Pain flashed through his mind. That was all he could see: the red pulse of pain. He resisted the urge to scream as more needles slid through his skin. He heard that voice again, the voice of that so-called doctor. Doctor Karra. "These will amplify your lung capacity, giving you more oxygen every time you inhale." _Shit. I wish she wouldn't tell me what her damn needles are doing to me._

He tried to tone her out, but her voice echoed in his mind. He saw her again, the first person he saw when he landed on Horizon. He saw her smile, not a pleasant thing. He heard her voice as she addressed Wolf. "These will do excellently, commander."

He remembered being herded into a large room with hundreds of other children. He remembered the crying, the wailing as some cried for their parents or loved ones. Chad had also cried, but not Scott. He stood alone, in a corner, watching the others. His heart was hard. Their father had betrayed them.

More needles. The whirr of some kind of drill. The desire to scream came even stronger now. Scott clenched his teeth together tightly. This pain was too much for any human being to endure._ This too shall pass_, he told himself. _This too. Shall. Fucking. Pass._

The whirring stopped. The needles went away. He had no idea how long it had been. He felt himself being raised, the deeper thrum of the operating table rising again into a chair. He looked across the room at the woman standing behind a thick layer of glass, a computer hovering before her. No expression. _She's not even human, dammit._

* * *

Scott sat up straight, still only half-conscious. He looked around. The rec-room was empty. He leaned back again. _For one night, one damned night, can I sleep without dreaming?_

* * *

Wake up, 05h00. Roll call, 05h05. Dress out, full armor, 05h25. Run ten miles, 05h30. Get back, 06h30. Eat, 06h45. Go to armory, get rifle, get to shooting range, 07h00. Target practice, 07h05. Pushups, 09h05. Situps, 09h10. Five minute break. Go to armory, get handgun, get to shooting range, 09h15. Target practice, 09h20. Pushups, 11h20. Situps, 11h25. Thirty-five minute break. Eat, 12h00. Battlefield tactics, 12h15. Live fire training, 15h00. Pushups, 18h05. Situps, 18h10. Five minute break. Run ten miles, 18h15. Get back, 19h15. Eat, 19h30. Go to armory, special weapons training, 19h55. Armor back on stand, weapons back on rack, 21h55. Everyone in the barracks, 22h00. Lights out, 23h00. One day.

TROJANs had a reputation their commander wanted them to achieve: The best of the best. To reach that, every day was hell. Every day was brutal. There were no days off. There were no second chances. You kept up, or you died. Simple as that.

The augmentations helped. A week after the surgeries was Zero Day. After that, no more leisure. Life on Horizon was hell.

It had the intended effect. Ten years after their recruitment, the first graduating class of Home Interplanetary Military Response Corps TROJAN supersoldiers was ready. And the known worlds celebrated. The Territes had captured many planets, and full-scale genocide took place on worlds held by the enemy. The Territes had one goal: to eliminate the human race. That's why TROJAN-IX was initiated. It was Home's last-ditch effort to survive.

Scott was forever altered by that training. The fun-loving child in him died as those needles punctured his skin, stabbing deep into his soul. Those needles turned the kindly boy with a great future ahead of him as the philanthropic head of his father's business empire into a machine. A brutal soldier with no sense of mercy. No feelings. A ghost.

Scott remembered the big fights. He couldn't forget.

7880. The Battle of Exentra. The first human victory against the Territes. Scott remembered it vividly. Twenty-four TROJAN squads landed at Ylos, Exentra's capital. The Territes were waiting. They were wiped off the face of the planet. One hundred ninety two TROJANs hit the ground. One hundred ninety two walked away. Three million Territes waited for them. Zero walked away. It wasn't a battle. It was a massacre.

Exentra was pitiless. Scott remembered vomiting, puking his guts out as he looked over the carnage strewn across Ylos. He walked away from that battle undeniably changed. He entered combat afterwards with no feelings. Feelings got in the way.

7886. The Battle of Zyclo. The first TROJAN defeat. The Territes had finally learned how to get past the shielded armor and well-oiled tactics of the TROJANs. Thirteen squads landed in the third Territe world to be assaulted. One hundred and four TROJANs. Seven were WIA. The rest are listed as MIA. Scott was one of those seven. The others? What became Lambda Squad.

Zyclo was a mistake from the beginning. The TROJANs were underprepared, overconfident, and paid the price dearly. That was where Scott first saw his friends fall around him. He was Gamma back then. Chad was Kappa. He didn't know anyone else who were later thrown into Lambda. The leftovers.

7890. The Battle of Kyul. Tactical TROJAN victory. Eighth use of an SGBM. It wasn't worth it. The nuclear projects didn't even compare to these new death angels. Kyul was void of life now. A whole planet, billions of lives. Gone. And Kyul had the smallest SGBM casualty list. Scott didn't want to think about Laties. One trillion reported deaths…

Kyul was the first battle with Kirk. He had transferred from Horizon. Wayne started a rivalry immediately upon seeing the short, nervous blond specialist. It was just Kirk's bad luck to be so submissive. Wayne hated people who wouldn't stand up to him. He liked to argue them down. Scott took a liking to Kirk right away. Here was a TROJAN he could connect with. Unassuming, outwardly nervous, and quietly chipping away at the foundation of Wayne's ego. Scott could get on board with this one.

Now. Twenty-one battles raged across the known galaxy. A TROJAN team was present at each. Two were on Callista. And a third was coming. With an Over Watch. Ridiculous.

* * *

Scott stood from the recliner as Charity walked in to the rec-room. He saluted, somewhat casually, and she winked at him. "Where are the others, Ghost?"

"Dunno for sure, Capi. Kris is bunked up in 7, Dex in 4. Chad and Magnus went that way, too. Kirk disappeared a while ago, and who gives a shit where Wayne is?"

"I'm right here, jackass," came Wayne's voice from behind him.

Scott pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Wayne's right there."

Charity smiled sarcastically. "He's hard to miss."

The big lance corporal started to respond, but Magnus's arrival shut him up. "I'll round up the others, captain," rumbled the big sergeant.

Charity nodded. "Go ahead, Sarge."

The burly man walked off towards the dormitories. Kirk walked in from the long hallway, running his hand through his hair. Wayne took one look at him and scoffed. "Get your fobbit ass out of that armor. We're in a wormhole."

Kirk ignored him. "What's the plan, captain?" he asked, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

The only female TROJAN squad leader looked at him. "I'll tell you when the others get here, Specs."

Scott smiled sarcastically. Even though she held the highest rank in the squad, Charity was still the most informal of them all. She had a nickname for everyone in the squad. Chad was Corp, Dex Pacific (he was a private first class, even though he had been fighting since Exentra), Wayne was Loose Cannon and Krystal was, well, Kris. Everyone called her Kris.

Magnus ushered Dexter and Chad into the room, and Krystal entered calmly behind them. Charity looked around, and finding no one missing, she started. "Wolf came in with new orders. He wants our Over Watch on sector patrol around the capital city. We are not to engage, but to observe. When we've completed a bioscan of the area and marked all heavy weaponry outposts and armories, we are to report to Captain Logan-071 of Tau and Lieutenant Frederic-104 of Iota. They'll start the ground assault when the Marines land."

"How many did Command send this time, captain?"

"Sixth Division, Pacific. Fifteen thousand."

Chad whistled. "Damn. Home's getting serious."

Charity nodded. "Callista is indispensable. Home has enacted Brandt Protocol for all forces in the Callista system."

_Holy shit. Brandt Protocol. Kill or be killed. No quarter. Damn._

"Bullshit," remarked Wayne, perpetually predictable.

"Not this time, Cannon. This is as real as it gets."

"Damn," muttered Magnus.

_Brandt Protocol. No backing down. No going back. No half-assed measures. This was it._

_Holy shit._


	3. Chapter 3

He looked out the observation window. The Over Watch hovered outside, in the emptiness of space, Callista's sun rising behind it. Scott turned away. They had to go out there. The Over Watch was to be placed under manual control. Eight guns. Eight TROJANs. Guarding sixteen TROJANs and fifteen thousand HIMRC Marines.

Chad glanced over at him. The engines roared briefly, then cut and they drifted towards the giant robotic angel of death. Scott felt a touch on his hand. Krystal's small hand wormed its way under his. He ignored it, but didn't move his hand away either. What they were about to do was the easy part.

Dexter stood with his hand poised over the red button. He looked over at Charity, who nodded once. "Do it, Pacific."

He nodded too, and slammed the button down. The pod split in half and the eight TROJANs activated their jetpacks, roaring across the 500 feet to the entrance hatch. Magnus landed first and pried it open. Lambda Squad flew into the airlock, and after five seconds the red light over the door turned green. The door opened and Over Watch greeted them in a dull monotone. "Welcome, 115. Controls have been set to manual."

Charity removed her helmet and turned to her squad. "You know which turrets to take. Cover your sectors thoroughly, and be prepared to respond immediately. This is just a recon, so hold your fire unless ordered otherwise. Go."

Scott jogged through the interior of the elliptical robot, Dexter, Magnus and Kirk following behind him. They had the starboard guns. Scott ducked into the third low circular hatch and dropped into the spherical pod which held the guns. He had three weapons to choose from: SGBM, 280-cal and 100-cal. He set his helmet on the floor next to his left foot and took the two joystick-looking controls in his hands. As he did so the screens materialized in front of him, and he rotated through them: variable zoom, infrared, weapon identifier and bioscanner. He exhaled and shifted his fingers on the two sticks, feeling where each button was, re-familiarizing himself with the turret.

Charity's voice came on the intercom. "Cover your sectors, Lambdas, and mark anything of importance. Keep a running count of enemy personnel and equipment. 115 out."

Scott activated his weapons scanner. He swept the area, noting each item and marking each verbally within Over Watch's memory system. ".88, sector seven-tango. Small arms storehouse, sector seven-uniform. Anti-armor, sector seven-one-charlie. Anti-air, sector seven-niner-foxtrot." And on, and on. _Holy shit, they're packing heavy. This is gonna be suicide._

"Scan sector two complete," came Wayne's report.

"Scan sector eight complete." Kirk.

"Scan sector one complete." Charity.

"Scan sector seven complete."

"Scan sector five complete." Dexter.

"Scan sector four complete." Krystal.

"Scan sector six complete." Magnus.

"Scan sector three complete. All scans complete?" Chad.

"Roger that, Corp, all weapons scans complete. Initiate planetary bioscan."

"Copy, captain, bioscan initiated," rumbled Magnus.

Scott waited. He switched to variable zoom, watching the Territes move around, oblivious to the Over Watch holding position 500 klicks above them. He saw one turn its head around its shoulders, all 360 degrees, and cringed. The Territe looked up, seemingly straight into Scott's eyes. He jerked back from the screen violently. He knew that Territe.

* * *

Scott scratched his shoulder nervously. He hated it when Father made him wear a suit. He shifted in his seat, and his father gave him a look. Scott froze. Chad smirked at him from across the table. He resisted the urge to punch his brother in the face.

His father stood, looking off to Scott's left. The boy looked with him, his eyes widening. He had seen aliens before, but none like this one. It fairly glided over to his father, its thick stumps of feet barely touching the ground, and extended one of its four three-fingered hands to Garrett. The older Davies shook it. "Thank you for coming, Mister Terak."

Its voice was smooth as silk. "Of course, Mister Davies. I am sure we can come to an… agreement." It smiled a toothless smile, its long face splitting wide. Scott thought he saw teeth in the back of its mouth, but he knew not to stare. It was rude to stare.

Scott stood at his father's look, Chad following his example. "These are my sons, Mister Terak. Scott and Chad."

"Such bright young faces," remarked the Territe. Scott shuddered as the slitted eyes passed over him. "Twins, I see. How old are they?"

"Six."

"Six…" the Territe drew out the word. "Such a delightful year."

Garrett extended a hand. "Please, have a seat."

"I think I will, thank you." The thick, yellowish-brown body slid gracefully into the high-backed chair.

Scott's father started to use words he didn't comprehend, and he turned to covertly look at their guest. He was surprised; the only creature he had seen that looked similar was a Siaman, and those were loud and heavy. This alien was svelte and almost delicate, but the intelligence lurking behind those slanted eyes was frightening. There was no emotion in those eyes. Only desire. But desire for what? Scott's young mind couldn't understand.

Now he knew. He knew that the Territe was trying to access his father's weapons development branch. The creature wanted to destroy all humans, but the technology on Terra and its colonies was not sufficient to do so. Terak wanted SGBMs. He wanted to destroy Home.

* * *

"Lieutenant 090, come in, over!"

Scott fumbled with the comlink as it jerked him out of his daydream. He finally got a hold of it. "This is 090, over."

It was Logan. "Tau needs air support in sector seven, ASAP! We've got .88s wiping out the Marines' armor and vehicles. We need a 280 placed on sector seven-three-oscar, over!"

"Wilco, 071, 280 on the way." Scott put his eye to the sight, marking the position of the .88s. "Fire incoming, keep your heads down, over." He pressed the red button atop the right stick, and the heavy thump of a 280 sounded. Three. Two. One. An explosion appeared on his screen.

"Nice shot, Ghost. 071 out."

Scott slumped back in the seat._ Those damned memories almost got Tau killed. Focus, Scott. Remember Zyclo._

* * *

Screams. Explosions. Shrapnel rattled his visor. He ducked as another barrage of Mach-4 bullets screamed past. He turned. "Alaric, move your ass, let's go!"

The lanky man collapsed against the rubble. "Dammit, holy shit, dammit, they got me!"

"No damn way, let's go! I ain't leavin' you here!"

Alaric grunted again. "Shit, man, we're getting hammered! Where's our air support?"

Scott screamed into his comlink. "Over Watch, this is gamma-090 in sector five! We need damned air support, now, over!"

"Negative, 090, we cannot render assistance at this time, over."

"**What**!? No shitting way, you have to help us! The Territes are mowing us down!"

"Sorry, 090, there is nothing we can do. You're on your own, out."

"Useless bastard!" Scott started to walk away.

Alaric coughed. "Scott, don't leave me!"

Scott turned back to his friend. "No way, Alaric, let's go!" He hauled the soldier onto his shoulder, blood running down his armor. _Damn, they did get him._

Alaric cried out with pain, but urged Scott forward. "Let's get the hell outta here! Where's the LZ?"

Scott shouted into his comlink again. "Charlie-two-six, do you copy? This is 090 calling for medical evac in sector five-oscar, over!"

"Copy that, 090, evac ship is on the way. Marking waypoint on your HUD, over."

A blinking yellow light appeared in the bottom left corner of his visor. "I see it. We are oscar-mike, over."

"Roger that, haul ass, out."

Scott stuck his head outside, and a barrage of bullets whistled past the door. Alaric pressed something into his hand. "Use this!" Scott tossed it without thinking, and thick black smoke filled the street. "Go, go, go!" Scott sprinted across the street, stray bullets zinging past. They ducked into the next building just as the smoke faded. Alaric shouted again. "Shit, shit, shit! Stop!"

Scott fell to a crouch and laid Alaric against a pillar in the center of the floor of what seemed to have been a parking garage. Alaric coughed again, and Scott could see the blood on the inside of his visor. "No, no, no! Don't you dare die on me, Alaric! Look at me! Look at me! You're gonna be okay! You're gonna be okay, dammit!"

Alaric's visor faded to transparent. His smile was weak. "Sorry, buddy. I'm going to have to be absent for the end of this one."

"**No**! Don't do this, Alaric! Don't die on me! The evac is just over there, come on!"

Alaric coughed again, a racking, painful cough. More blood hit the inside of his visor. "Hey, didn't you know? TROJANs don't die."

"You're damn right they don't, and least of all you! Come on, dammit!"

Alaric's smile was even weaker. "Say hi to Charity for me, okay?"

"I won't have to, because you will! Come on!"

"090, this is charlie-two-six, we are at the LZ. What's your status, over?"

"Wait for us, charlie, we'll be there, over!"

"Roger that, 090, but be advised that large numbers of hostiles are advancing on your position. We can't wait long, over."

Scott turned back to Alaric. "Come on, get up! The heli's right outside!"

Alaric shook his head. "It's the end of the line for me, Scotty. I'll delay them for you. Go."

Scott shook his head violently, tears dripping on the inside of his visor. "No way I'm leaving you, Alaric!"

"I'm a captain, remember? You have to obey my orders. Go."

Bullets zinged around them. The Territes had found them. Scott stood, firing his assault rifle. One bullet hit him, then two. He stumbled backwards. Alaric stood in front of him, amazingly on his feet. Three bullets hit him, but he stayed standing. He fired his pistol into the Territes, his rifle out of ammo. "Get your ass out of here, lieutenant. That's an order."

Scott stumbled backwards, towards the back exit. "Take 'em out, Alaric!"

"You got it, Scotty." The lanky captain turned towards the Territes, shouting defiantly as he piled bullets into them. "For Home, and for the TROJANs!"

Scott fell to his knees as he exited the building, his legs no longer able to support him. Two Marines came up, taking his shoulders and dragging him onto the helicopter. As it lifted off, there was a huge explosion. Scott looked down to see the parking garage engulfed by a mushroom cloud. "**Alaric**!" he shouted desperately.


	4. Chapter 4

_I lost my entire squad. Every one of my men._

_That's when it happened. That's when I truly became a ghost._

_Just a shadow. Surrounded by death._

_I made up my mind that day. The day I let my squad die around me._

_I looked down from that helicopter at the wreckage below us, what was left of Zyclo's capital, and something died inside me._

_A conscience is something that gets in the way._

_That's all a soul is._

_An obstacle._

_Something to overcome._

_I can't atone for failing to protect them._

_But I can sure as hell not let it happen again._

* * *

Scott stood with his squadmates, watching the readout on the screen above the loading ramp. A computerized voice was speaking. "We will reach the hotzone in twenty seconds. Lock and load, TROJANs." The voice started a countdown.

_Wayne was right, for once._

"Make sure you're ready to rock and roll, Lambdas," said Charity. "We're going in hot."

Wolf had called in. They had been ordered to land in the city. A group of three hundred Marines, Fox Company, had taken a wrong turn and were deep in hostile territory. They had to be pulled out.

"Nine, eight, seven…" the countdown continued.

Scott took a deep breath and turned on his HUD, the visor going from clear to an amber one-way glass.

"Five, four, three…" The loading ramp cracked open, and a ray of hot sunlight rushed in, outlining the widening slits of the metal plank.

_Here we go._

"Two…" The ramp opened further, the sounds of battle coming clearer now.

_Holy shit_.

"One."

"Go, go go!" Charity shouted as she jumped off the ramp. Scott followed, not thinking about the twenty-foot drop. He knew he could make the jump without repercussion. He landed in a crouch and turned to face down the street, Territe Mach-4 rounds rushing at them. He fired back and saw green blood spray out of multiple hostiles. He smiled to himself. _A few less to worry about._

He felt Magnus grab his shoulder. The sound of the helicopter had faded away. He stood as the big man yelled at him. "We're all on the ground, let's move!"

As Scott turned to follow the burly sergeant, he heard the shriek of an incoming missile. He tackled Magnus to the ground and it screamed just overhead, careening into a building behind them. The two TROJANs crawled into the apartment building where the rest of the squad waited.

Charity shouted to her squad as another missile hit their building. "Those Marines are trapped two klicks south of here. They're holding out in some sort of church. They've set up a temporary defense line but can't survive for long. Command says we've got five minutes tops before they're toast. Let's move out!"

Lambda Squad turned and jogged to the south exit of the building. Chad poked his head out and pulled back immediately, bullets striking the doorframe. "Shit. Pop smoke!"

"Popping smoke!" Dexter tossed three canisters into the avenue. _Two, one._ The smoke filled the wide street.

"Go, go!"

Scott sprinted across to the next building, half-destroyed by a 280 round. "Covering fire!" he shouted as he sprayed bullets through the smoke towards the Territes.

Magnus ran past him. "We're all in, let's move!"

Scott emptied his clip and reloaded on the run, dropping the smoking cartridge onto the ground. _Four minutes._

"Hostiles, second floor!" came Kirk's warning.

"Wayne!" shouted Charity.

"Got 'em!" He raised his 13-AWT bottomless lmg to the second floor. "Suck on this, bitches!" The heavy rounds tore into the Territes above them.

"Keep moving forward!"

Scott sprinted on, taking the lead as they wove through tight alleyways._ Three minutes._

Magnus pointed ahead of them at a large ten-pointed star rising above the rest of the city's skyline. "There's the target building!"

_What the hell do these things worship?_

Scott ran on, heading right into the street. "Ghost, get down!" He heard the heavy thump of an .88 cannon and dove behind what used to be a transport truck, the asphalt shattering behind him.

"Get him, Kris!"

Scott turned to see Krystal raise the P2840 to her shoulder. "Covering fire!" he shouted, standing to fire into the Territes.

The sniper rifle popped, and the 50-cal round tore through the targeting computer of the .88 and popped the Territe's head like a water balloon. Filled with green liquid.

Wayne sprinted out into the street next. "Light 'em up!" The AWT flashed as thousands of bullets flew towards the Territes' fortified position at the north end of the street. Scott turned to see more aliens coming towards them from the south, their strange guns wrapped around their shoulders. _Two minutes._

"Bugs incoming, six-o-clock!"

Magnus brought his 7TA-8 up, and Scott heard the distinctive click of the 75mm grenade launcher. The big sergeant fired once, and the entire south side of the street detonated, taking at least three dozen aliens with it.

Charity threw a grenade behind the sandbags at the north end of the street. A Territe stood, meaning to throw it back, but the cooked grenade detonated in its claws, blowing it to pieces along with those around it.

"Move!" shouted Dexter, and the squad reassembled on the run.

Magnus shouted into his com. "Delta-five-four, do you copy? This is lambda-119 requesting medical evac in sector nine-one-sierra, over!"

A few seconds passed. All of Lambda Squad waited breathlessly for a reply as they sprinted towards the church. _Sixty seconds._

A hiss of static. "Roger that, 119, medical evac incoming. How many casualties, over?"

"We're not sure yet, delta-five-four, as many as three hundred, over."

"Copy that, 119. Delta-five-four out."

Scott hurried into the Territe church. "Friendlies on your six, hold fire, hold fire!"

"You're our reinforcements?"

"We're it, captain," rumbled Magnus.

"Are you gonna get us outta here, sir?" asked a nervous Marine near Scott.

Dexter gripped his shoulder reassuringly. "Damn right we are, private."

Charity nodded. "We've got a heli incoming, it'll be landing in a few minutes in the cemetery out back. How bad are your losses so far?"

The Marine captain, Lewis, scratched his head. "Williams, Evans and Huxley are dead, and all of Second Squad is WIA. A dozen others, too. How many can the heli take?"

"It's prepped for three hundred casualties."

"Damn," muttered the Marine next to Scott.

"Where are the wounded?" asked Kirk.

Lewis pointed towards the altar, and Kirk hurried over.

"You should all get on the heli," suggested Dexter, picking up the previous conversation. "You'll get dropped where you're supposed to be."

"Makes sense. What sector are we in?"

"Nine."

"Shit."

"Yep. You're way outside the battle area."

An .88 round hit the the church, blowing a hole out of the corner.

"119, this is delta-five-four, the LZ is too hot, unable to land, over."

"Are you shitting me!?" shouted Lewis.

Magnus spoke coolly into the comlink. "Clarify, delta-five-four, over."

"The LZ has been moved five klicks east, 119. Over."

Magnus sighed heavily. "Roger that, delta-five-four. We've got twenty injured Marines and we are oscar-mike to your location. Over."

"Haul ass, 119, we don't have much time."

"Let's move out," Charity said as she wearily shouldered her assault rifle.

Scott took point again as they moved slowly through the suddenly deserted city streets.

"It's too quiet," came the nervous voice of Kirk.

"Where the hell did they go?"

"Keep it quiet, Marine," Dexter said as he laid his hand on the young Marine private's shoulder. "You never know if they're searching for a radio signature."

Charity tapped Scott. He stopped and turned to her in a crouch, holding his fist up to tell those behind them to stop as well. "Pacific may have a point. Take Chad and Magnus and get into that building across the street. Hack the bugs' network and find out what they're up to."

"You got it, Capi." Scott stood and waved for his brother and the big sergeant. They hurried up to him. Wayne took point and the Marines moved off to reinforce a position farther down the street in an old bank. Scott relayed Charity's orders and the trio cautiously crossed the empty asphalt into the target building.


	5. Chapter 5

A hiss of static, a sharp click. Magnus's rumbled in Scott's helmet. "Use only shortwave communicators, lieutenant. We can't risk a wavelength hack."

"Got it. Suppress weapons."

A quiet click came from the two guns behind him. "All quiet."

Scott stepped into the next room. "Clear left."

"Clear right."

They turned to the right, moving into the foyer, a large room with a glass front occupying the northeast corner of a once-busy intersection.

"Stay in the shadows."

"Movement left."

"He's mine." Scott lined up the Territe on the stairway next to them and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked and he heard a quiet click. He caught the bullet casing to keep it from striking the marble floor. "Stairs clear."

"Computer's on the second floor."

The three TROJANs moved up the stairs, their heavy boots making a deep, quiet thud. Chad tossed his submachine gun to his brother as they reached the server room. "Cover me." The slicer turned to the computers and started to work his magic.

Magnus tapped Scott's left shoulder. "Two doors. I'll go for that one, you get the one we came through. Stay quiet."

Scott nodded. _Hurry up, Chad. We don't have much time._

The building started to shake. Scott looked out at the square through the three-story window. "Damn," he breathed. A heavy vehicle was approaching, a Territe troop transport. Scott counted the stout aliens as they filed out of the armor. _Holy shit_. "Ninety-two bugs coming from the southwest."

"No fuckin' way." He sensed Chad come up and look over his shoulder.

"Get back to the computer, corporal." Magnus took a knee behind Scott, looking over the shorter TROJAN towards the enemy. "You're right, Ghost. Corporal, are we clear for transmissions?"

"Not sure yet, Sarge. Gimme a sec." Chad's fingers flew over the virtual keypad.

"We'll have to engage."

Scott looked at Magnus like he was crazy. "No damn way."

"We don't have a choice, corporal. The captain's a klick north of here, and we can't contact them safely. Those Marines have to get outta here, we can't put those boys through another firefight."

"But that's what they're here for, right?" interrupted Chad.

"You know better than that, corporal. They're here to defend rear positions. You saw their insignias. They're three-ohs."

_Eighteen-year-olds with only thirty days of training. Just a bunch of kids. Damn._

"We don't have any heavy weapons. Or air support," Scott pointed out.

"I know."

"What if we pop green smoke? Capi'd be sure to see that, right?"

"And so would every other Territe unit in the area, corporal. We have to take them out."

Scott nodded. Chad sighed. Both knew Magnus was right.

Magnus turned to look at Chad. "Keep trying to get into their network, corporal. We have to get that information at all costs."

Chad nodded, his face serious. Scott set the RFk next to his brother and moved to the top of the stairs quietly. A patrol of Territes was getting closer to the building. Scott counted six. Magnus knelt at the other side of the stairs, also behind a low wooden wall. It wasn't much cover, but it didn't have to be. Not yet.

Magnus clicked on his shortwave. "We'll ambush these when they enter the building. When too many come in, we'll fall back to those two doorways. Then, if we have to, we'll fall back to the computer room entrance. If we're lucky, the corporal will have the intel by then. If not, we'll hold there until he does."

"Got it."

The Territes opened the large glass doors, strolling casually into the foyer. Scott brought the IHC-3 to his shoulder, looking down its short-range scope. Magnus spoke quietly. "Not yet, Ghost."

Scott waited. Five seconds went by, interminable. Finally, two of the Territes broke away and came towards the stairs.

"Let 'em come up."

Scott slid a few feet back, away from the stairs. The Territes' feet thumped hollowly on the steps. One of their heads popped up in Scott's scope, but he still waited. The other came up, and Magnus gave a slight nod.

Click. Click. Two bullet casings landed on the floor, one from an assault rifle, the other from a handgun. Two dead Territes sprawled at the top of the stairs.

"Move 'em." Magnus grabbed the alien he had shot by the arm and dragged it off the landing. Scott quickly followed suit.

After a few more eternal seconds, a questioning guttural sound came from the Territes on the ground floor. They had finally noticed the absence of their fellows. Another came towards the stairs.

"I've got this one."

"All yours, lieutenant."

Scott waited. The Territe came slowly up the stairs, looking around. Its odd guns covered both sides of the straight stairs easily, since one was strapped to two of its arms. The Territe peered up the stairs into the darkened hallway. Then Scott realized something. There was a dim blue light coming from the room where Chad was working. He couldn't let the Territe see it. He fired once, and the Territe tumbled down the stairs, shrieking. Its comrades hurried over, and Magnus rose to a tall squat, his head and shoulders showing over the low wall that served as their only protection. "Weapons free."

Scott stood, the IHC-3 at his shoulder already, firing silently into the Territes. It took the aliens a moment to realize where the bullets were coming from as their squadmates dropped around them. That was the only advantage the TROJANs were going to have.

Magnus popped the last Territe in the patrol and sunk to a crouch again, peering around the corner and down the stairs into the foyer. More Territes were coming into the building. They must have seen the others get shot.

"Go loud, Ghost. Let me handle the groups, you pick off the stragglers."

Scott nodded and stood again. A pack of Territes, a dozen or so, lingered outside the building.

"I've got 'em." Magnus stood too, and his rifle made a heavy thump as the 75mm grenade sped out of it and shattered the window, detonating straight into the group of Territes. Screams and shrieks came as a response, and one of the aliens ducked into the armored vehicle.

"He's calling in backup!"

"The more the merrier, lieutenant. Fire at will."

Mach-4 rounds whistled past the two TROJANs standing defiantly at the top of the stairs, firing into the overwhelming numbers of Territe soldiers storming their position. A grenade landed next to Scott, and he lobbed it back, killing at least three Territes, including the one who threw it.

Another halftrack roared into the square, knocking down the statue of some noteworthy Territe, and another company of aliens rushed out of it, heading towards the building. A missile shattered the upper third of the window and shook the building as it hit somewhere on the third floor.

"Pull back, pull back!" Magnus fired another 75 into the oncoming enemies, Scott threw two frag grenades, and they spun back deeper into the building, stopping at the first two doorways and going prone. The Territes stormed up the stairs and were immediately driven back by the intensity of the incoming fire, and the fighting came to a lull.

After a few minutes, Scott looked over at Magnus. "They're not coming this way."

Magnus shook his head. "They're waiting for us to come out."

"There's another way up, isn't there?"

Magnus swore. "Shit. There is."

The two TROJANs turned and sprinted the twenty yards back to the server room.

"What's your status, corporal?"

"Just a few… more…" Chad bent over the computer, his concentration obvious. Another missile hit the building, blowing a hole in the outer wall of the server room. "Shit!"

Bullets whistled into the now-open room. "Get to cover!" shouted Magnus.

Chad crawled back over to the computer, dragging it onto the floor. "I've got this!"

Scott emptied his seventh clip and grabbed another. He only had three left.

Territes poured up the stairs on both sides of the room. "They're trying to flank us!"

"I got it! I got it!" Chad yelled triumphantly.

"Yeah, well don't get it on me."

"Can it, Ghost! We're pulling out, now!"

"Where? We're surrounded!" Chad shouted desperately.

Magnus leveled the 7AT at the wall behind them. "Get clear!" He pulled the trigger, tearing open a new exit. "Go!"

Scott looked from their new exit back to Magnus, and time slowed. He saw a Territe leap through the opening behind the big sergeant. He watched the alien raised its guns, its forked tongue sliding out as it smiled its toothless smile. He tried to level his rifle to the Territe, but his arms felt heavy as lead. He heard Chad shout, "Look out!" Magnus half-turned as the alien's guns kicked back. Blood spurted out of Magnus's chest and lower torso. The Territe fired again, and Magnus fell to the floor. Scott raised his IHC-3 and fired, the Territe's thin helmet ineffective as the bullet tore through its skull. The alien fell on top of Lambda's sergeant, dead.

Chad was shouting, his words unintelligible. The slicer fired his RFk at the Territes swarming in both doors. "Chad, we have to go!"

His brother didn't seem to hear him. Scott tackled him out of the hole Magnus's 75 had formed as the Territes' bullets whizzed around them. Scott rolled to his feet. "Go!"

Chad remained on his knees. "But, Magnus!"

Scott hauled his brother to his feet. "He's dead. Let's go! Is our wavelength secure?"

Chad nodded once. That was all Scott needed. "Capi, this is Ghost! Wavelength verified secure. Magnus is KIA. We're coming back to your position. We've got two companies of bugs hot on our tails, over."

"Copy that, Ghost. We're ready for them, out."

The two TROJANs sprinted out into the street towards the bank. Dexter saw them and waved his ICH-1. "We're here! Get under cover!"

Scott threw Chad behind the thick wall and slid in after him. Krystal looked at him. "Magnus?"

"Dead."

"Oh."


End file.
